


Stings Like Broken Glass

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Ed's mentally ill, Gen, Hurt, M/M, Season 3, Slight Violence, different ending, dock scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: As far as Ed knew, his other personality was right about everything up until this point. That is until the gun goes off and he's watching his one and only friend sink beneath the surface of the water.





	1. Chapter 1

The bang was what startled him from his daze, his arm jerking as the gun went off, and he could smell the smoke. He watched himself through foggy vision, his hand felt wet and icy cold as he pushed Oswald away from himself. He watched his eyes widen, watched as his body fell off the pier and into the frigid waters below. The fog in his mind cleared as he fully came back to himself again, he was shivering now as he stood in the pouring rain. He took heavy slow steps towards the edge, looked down into the water and gasped as he watched his friend’s body sinking into the waters. He looked down at the gun he still held in his hand, he looked down at it with disgust and fear before throwing it into the water. His fingers shook as he pushed his jacket down his shoulders shrugging out of it, he tossed it back onto the ground. He felt himself working on auto pilot, he was shaking from the cold, teeth chattering, and heart thumping in his chest. He could feel these things, he could smell the factories nearby and hear the seagulls, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the body sinking below the waters surface, the body getting harder to see with each passing second.

Suddenly he was breaking through the water, the shock of the cold was almost more than his body was willing to handle, but he had his eyes locked on Oswald’s body. In his mind he prayed to some form of God that he was still alive, that he wouldn’t die from bleeding out, from shock, or hypothermia. As he continued going down he felt the distance between them only continued to grow, he stretched his arms out in front of him, fingers curling as he tried desperately to grab at his friend. Relief flooded him when he managed to tangle his fingers in the front of his shirt, his grip tight as he jerked him upwards. He wrapped an arm around his waist holding his still form against him as he now swam upwards, his movements heavy and slowed immensely now that he had the added weight of Oswald’s body.

His lungs and throat burned as the need to breathe was becoming too much, as he broke through the waters surface he began gasping taking in a lungful of frigid air that felt like shards of glass filling his throat. He hacked and coughed at the sharp burning pain filling his lungs, he dug his fingers against Oswald’s side making sure to keep his body close against his own. He used what energy he had left the swim to shore, he dragged them both onto the rocks, and laid Oswald down on his back. With shaking fingers, he untied his wrists, he checked his pulse and his breathing then went to work on resuscitating him. 

As he worked on him he worried, the worry bordering on panic. He worried that he’d just murdered his best friend, he worried what would even happen next if Oswald was still alive. He worried that he’d lose control of himself again, that his darker self would make him hurt Oswald again. He felt tears rolling down his cheeks mingling with the rain still hitting against his cheeks, quietly he begged his friend to wake up, voice cracking with rising panic.

He pulled back letting out a heavy sigh of relief when Oswald began sputtering out water, he heaved and coughed eventually rolling over onto his side spitting out more water and vile. Ed reached out rubbing and patting his back. Slowly and with obvious effort and struggle, Oswald moved closer to Ed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, red rimmed eyes locked on his and for the life of him Ed couldn’t read what he was feeling, but he knew it hurt like Hell. He let out a choked sob when Oswald collapsed against him loosely wrapping his arms around his waist. He returned the embrace using it as a good leverage to get him to his feet. Carefully Ed got to his feet, his hold on the smaller man firm. He could feel Oswald’s fingers digging against his jacket as he attempted to keep a tight hold on him, but his grasp was weak. 

Ed moved as quickly as he could to get back to his car, his heart still heavy in his chest the entire way there. He could feel Oswald’s hot breath against the side of his neck, as long as he was still breathing then maybe everything could be okay. If Oswald lived then they could do what he’d asked before, they could go back home, and talk. They could talk, and everything would be okay again, it could be like it was before. Before his other self came back, before that smug bastard in the mirror took over and forced him to pull the trigger.

When they arrived at the car Ed propped him up against the side of it as he opened the back-passenger door, carefully he laid his friend down on the seat. Oswald groaned and cringed, his hand immediately going to the wound in his stomach, the blood thoroughly soaked through his white dress shirt and once more staining his clammy hands. Ed quickly moved around to the trunk popping it open, he pulled out blankets, he carefully wrapped the other man up in them, made sure to keep his hand over the wound. Oswald’s eyes cracked open as he looked up at Ed, pain filling his glassy green eyes as he stared at him. Cautiously Ed pet his fingers through his soaked black hair pushing it out of his face, he leaned down pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He whispered more to himself than his friend.

Quickly he got into the car. The drive to the hospital was a blur for him. Each second, he thought about the hours before now. He could still hear Oswald screaming at him, hear his confession of love, his broken ragged sobs, and his screams so desperate and loud that he ended up sounded exhausted. He thought of his own words, his anger as he told him he didn’t love him, that he wouldn’t be killing somebody he loved. He felt nausea hit him as he replayed each moment in his head on repeat. 

The hate he felt towards himself at the moment out weighed any hate he’d forced himself to harbor towards the man currently bleeding to death in the backseat of his car. 

When he arrived at the hospital he parked out front of the emergency room, he ran inside screaming for them to help him, yelling that his friend had been shot and thrown into the river. He yelled and threatened until the nurses were rushing out the door and towards his car with a stretcher. He was quiet as he watched them rushing Oswald past him on the stretcher, he was left once more feeling this was all surreal. He was left feeling he was in a terrible nightmare and soon he’d wake up.

As he sat on the uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room he replayed the events like a horrible record. He buried his face in his hands crying. He wondered just where to go from here, if there was anywhere to go. He hoped that Oswald would live, he hoped he’d be willing to forgive him, and then a part of him hoped he would want him to just vanish from the city. He didn’t feel he deserved forgiveness, he feared what would happen if they worked things through. 

What was there for them?

As he thought about it he knew what Oswald had wanted. He’d just wanted him by his side, he just wanted him to care about him, and love him. It was such a simple request, but still he’d had no right to kill Isabella and to treat him like a moron after her death. His brain ached as he thought over it all and he felt the urge to just release control and let his other self run the show, but that was what landed them here.

He shivered as he recalled the night he had murdered Ms. Kringle. That loss of control, his fuzzy vision and the sense of not being there. Holding her body in his arms and screaming bloody murder until finally he blacked out only to wake up to find his body had been hijacked by a cruel version of himself. 

If Oswald survived this he was sure he’d hate him.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t until one day later that they let Ed in to see Oswald. They informed him upon waking that Oswald had immediately started requesting to see him, but they had needed to keep him under observation to ensure he was in stable condition first. Ed was worried as to why he would want to see him, worried he’d go in to have those brilliant green eyes regard him with hatred, but it would be what he deserved.

He dutifully followed the doctor down the hall towards Oswald’s hospital room, he nervously pushed his glasses up the bridge of hiss nose as they drew closer to the room. At the door the doctor let him know he was on pain medication, told him that he was fine, and by tomorrow he should be able to go home. Ed thanked him, tone flat, he watched as the doctor walked away. He ran his fingers back through his hair hating the way it was curling without hair product to keep it straight, even the clothes he wore were not what he normally wore, not ever since living with Oswald. He laughed to himself realizing his over sized thrift store sweater and dark brown dress pants were more so something he would have worn before Oswald began tailoring clothes for him, claiming that green was much more Ed’s color, he’d easily agreed with him on that.

He let out a heavy sigh preparing himself as he pushed open the door and stepped into the hospital room. Quietly he shut the door behind him, he approached the bed that his friend laid upon, and felt uneasy as he took in the sight of him. He looked fragile and sickly, his ashy complexion similar to how he’d looked when Ed had found him in the woods many months ago. 

“Hi” Ed greeted, voice unsure and quiet as he seated himself by his bed.

Oswald watched him, and Ed hated he couldn’t detect the emotion in his eyes.

“Was I dreaming, or did I die?” He asked, voice raspy.

“You didn’t die, I…I got you here before that could happen.”

Oswald nodded his head, he reached out to touch Ed’s cheek. Ed closed his eyes as he felt his fingers brush against his cheek, tears falling from his eyes as he remembered the way Oswald had reached for him on the docks the other day. 

“Why?” Oswald asked simply.

Ed opened his eyes again, “Why what?”

“I’d ask why you shot me, but I know that’s because I hurt you and because you hate me. So, I’ll ask why you saved my life.”

“Oswald, I don’t, I don’t hate you. What happened back there, the things that I said and the things that I did to you….I didn’t mean to shoot you, please believe me when I say that.”

He had many things he wished he could explain to him. He wished he knew a way to tell him he heard a voice in his head, that sometimes he felt dizzy and foggy, that his mind often went black, and there were moments in his days that he couldn’t remember. He wished he could explain the man in the mirror, he wished he could just yell at him for blackmailing him out of Arkham early instead of allowing him to stay in there and get the treatment he now felt he really might have needed after all. 

But this was not the time for that.

“I don’t know what to believe, I know I should be pissed off at you, and if you were anybody else I would have had you killed already.” He responded casually.

“So why am I still alive?”

He let out a weak laugh, “I’m a fool, I still love you, and I’m certain that if you were dead it would feel like my heart was missing. I know that all of this makes you think less of me.”

“No, it doesn’t. Oswald, there’s a lot I need to explain to you….Just now isn’t the right time.”

“When then?”

Ed fell quiet, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “When you’re released from the hospital, we can return home and I can tell you then.” He hopefully suggested, he could feel his heart pounding.

“Okay, I suppose I can at least listen to what you have to say. I still don’t know how I should even feel towards you right now. I don’t like what I feel right now.” 

Cautiously he took hold of Oswald’s hand giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m sorry”

The other man smiled sadly, “Is it bad that I don’t want you to leave?”

Ed laughed shaking his head, “I honestly don’t have the slightest idea anymore. I do want to stay though.”

“Good, but no more talking. I don’t feel like my mind is clear enough to discuss any of this today.”

Ed nodded in agreement. The silence that fell between them for the rest of the day was easy. As the day went on a nurse came in to tell Ed to leave, as he stood to leave Oswald began to yell at the woman to just leave and let them be. Ed had been less than surprised by the outburst, muffling his laughter with his hand. As night came Oswald had tugged at his arm until he got the hint he wanted him to lay with him on the bed. Carefully and quite uncomfortably he’d managed to fit onto the bed, curled up against his side, Oswald’s arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“You know that I hate this shirt, right?” He asked tugging at the rough fabric of the shirt Ed wore.

“I know” He responded as he closed his eyes.

He wondered if perhaps they both were trying to recapture the days of the apartment as they lay together in that small hospital bed, he almost wanted to dare and ask Oswald what he would change if they could go back to the beginning of their friendship. Ed closed his eyes falling asleep to the thoughts of each word and moment he would have changed. At least now he had a future he could possibly change, that he could improve.


End file.
